Soulceress (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 2)

by Hall, Linsey

  “You finished?” He nodded at her plate.

  “Um, yeah.”

  He grabbed it and his own and put them on the counter, then leaned over the sink and closed his eyes. Opening up to someone was fucking hard. It came in fits and starts. He’d held his darkest secret for so long that releasing it made him feel empty. It had defined him, but in the worst way.

  Now, when it came time to share more, it felt like pulling the words from his heart, but they were tangled around the veins and muscle.

  Gradually, he realized that the heat he felt at his back was Esha standing so close to him that he could feel the warmth of her body.

  Hesitantly, Esha laid a hand on the tense muscles of Warren’s back. She’d followed him over here, unable to help herself even though she knew he sought distance from her. From sharing more.

  That, she could understand. Trust and change weren’t easy. She swallowed hard, acknowledging that where she had trouble trusting, so did he. But she was so close now, desperate to know more about him. She was throwing herself into this, but couldn’t seem to help herself. “You go to the Veterans’ League as a way to atone, don’t you?”

  He stiffened, but turned to look down at her. He stood so close that she could feel his heat. She had to stifle a shiver that rushed over her. When his eyes met hers, intense and hot, she felt the heat of a flush creep up her cheeks.

  “Aye. And it helps me, no’ just them. I’m no’ a good man. No’ what everyone thinks I am.”

  She raised a hand to his chest, laying it against his pounding heart. “Why is it such a secret? You’ve done it for years and no one knows about it.”

  He shrugged, but his gaze dropped to her mouth. The hunger in his eyes sent a streak of heat straight to her pussy. Now that he’d had a taste of what ditching celibacy was like, he wanted more, it seemed.

  But she’d told herself she was going to be smart about this. Not get involved, especially not after everything he’d told her. She could fall for a man like him. But falling for someone had never ended well in the past, and it wouldn’t end well this time either.

  She pulled away, but was stopped short when he reached out and wrapped a strong arm around her waist.

  A small gasp escaped her. “I should—”

  The heat of his lips cut her off. One of his big hands cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer to him until the full length of her body pressed against his. Unable to help herself, she moaned at the hardness of him. His muscles, his hands, his cock. It was like being pressed up against warm, living steel.

  His mouth was ravenous on hers, hot and skilled and desperate. She could feel the years he’d been denying himself, and against her own best instincts, wanted to be the one he chose to be with for the first time in so long.

  When his big hand spread across her lower back and yanked her closer to him, all thought of objection fled. She ran her hands up the hard muscles of his chest until she could wrap her arms around his neck and sink her hands into the soft hair at his nape.

  “Fuck, I want you.” The words were harsh against her lips.

  Yes.

  Still kissing her, he spun her around until the countertop pressed cold and hard at her back. She cried out when she felt his hands grip her ass and lift her up onto the counter. His hips pushed her legs wide until his cock was pressed hard against her sex.

  Warren groaned at the feel of her heat against him. It was all he could do not to yank the clothes off her and plunge himself deep. He wanted nothing more than to feel her hot flesh close around his aching shaft, pulling him inside.

  He’d start slow, thrusting gently until she was begging him to move harder, faster. Anything to make her come. Only when she begged him would he pound into her until the pleasure made her squeeze his cock and he followed her over the edge.

  The fantasy only served to stoke his arousal to a fever pitch. He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her closer until her soft curves were pressed up against him. He grinned when he felt her shiver. “You like that, do you?”

  She moaned and kissed him harder. Her hands reached around his back and slid up his shirt, the heat of them a brand on his flesh. When she dragged her sweet mouth away from his lips, he reached up to pull her head back. Before he could, her lips brushed against his neck. Soft licks and sharp bites made his cock jump. He’d never survive this. Celibacy had worked so well in the past, but it was a ridiculous idea now.

  “You taste so good,” she whispered.

  He shuddered and let his head drop back as her hot mouth worked on him. One day soon, she’d be on her knees before him, gripping his hips while he fed the length of his cock between her lips. The idea of her red lips closing over the tip of his shaft made it pulse in his jeans. He’d spill again from the thought of her if he wasn’t careful.

  He wanted her hands on him, hot and soft on his shaft as he thrust against her. But he wouldn’t ask. Wouldn’t pressure her into that. Instead, he ran his hands up inside the back of her shirt until he reached her bra. With a flick of his finger, it came undone.

  “What are you—”

  His mouth cut off her words. “I want to touch you, lassie. Feel your soft breasts in my hands. I ache for you.”

  She pulled away. “I—um. This isn’t a good idea.”

  His head jerked back, and he looked down at her. She was serious. Though her eyes were hazy with desire and her lips red from his kisses, her jaw was set.

  “Really. This… It’s just a bad idea. I’m not strong enough for this.” She pushed at his chest, and he stepped back. She hopped off the counter and retreated to the first-floor bedroom. Just before she went through the door, she said, “Um, thanks for dinner. See you in the morning.”

  The door shut behind her and he stood in the kitchen, stunned. One second she’d been moaning in his arms, the next she’d retreated. And what the hell did she mean, she wasn’t strong enough for this?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The entire world was white. The ground covered in snow, the sky blanketed in clouds, and the snowmobile between her thighs. Esha was just grateful that the snow had stopped falling and hitting her cheeks like tiny daggers whenever she pushed up the clear faceguard on her helmet.

  Warren was about a dozen yards away on her right, speeding over the vast snowy expanse of the Vatnajökull glacier. Felix had picked them up right before sunrise and brought them up onto the glacier in his super-Jeep, a great monstrosity of a vehicle on giant tires meant for the remote Icelandic terrain. Though tourists occasionally visited the edges of the glacier, once you got toward the middle of huge expanse, it was miles upon miles of uninhabited snowy terrain.

  Warren drove his snowmobile closer to hers and yelled, “Sense anything yet?”

  She read his lips more than heard his words and shook her head. Felix had pointed them northwest, telling them that it was the most remote part of the glacier. They’d been driving for hours—thank gods for the spare fuel they’d brought—but she’d yet to feel anything that indicated they neared the city.

  “Chairman okay?” Warren shouted.

  She looked down at the Chairman, who sat in front of her, secured to the seat in a ridiculous little harness and fluffy egg-like thing. Felix said he’d made it for his dog, and though the Chairman looked ridiculous, he did look happy to be zipping across the snow. The Chairman had always had a thing for speed.

  “He’s fine,” Esha yelled back, and as soon as the words left her mouth, a zip of energy hit her in the chest. She gasped and her hand loosened on the throttle. The snowmobile slowed. Once she caught her breath, she tightened her grip again and caught up with Warren, who’d slowed his pace ahead of her.

  “We’re close,” she yelled. The feeling in her chest—that felt like energy ping-ponging off her ribs—grew stronger as they headed farther into the most desolate part of the glacier.

  A spot of shadow on the vast expanse of white grew into a great stone monstrosity that took her breath away. It rose like a grea
t stone castle, sprawling across the ice and defying all logic of city construction. There was no way to survive on the glacier except through magic, which clearly hadn’t been spared while constructing the soulceresses’ greatest city.

  “There it is!” she yelled at Warren.

  “Where?”

  So he couldn’t see it. “Stop your snowmobile.”

  They pulled to a stop, still half a mile away. Esha climbed off hers and clomped across the snow toward Warren, her huge borrowed snow boots slowing her to a trudge.

  “Come here,” she said, and pulled off one of her gloves. When he climbed off his machine and leaned close, she pushed up the clear faceguard of his helmet to lay her hand against his cheek. She closed her eyes and willed her ability to see the city to him.

  “Oh, fuck,” Warren breathed.

  She withdrew her hand and climbed back onto her snowmobile. “Let’s go.”

  They set off again. What had initially looked like a great stone wall surrounding the city was actually formed by the backs of the buildings themselves. They rose tall, pressed cheek by jowl, with glinting glass windows that reflected the sun. Every hundred feet or so, a road or path led into the city. Apparently hiding was enough for the soulceresses of old. They hadn’t been afraid anyone would find them way out here, not in the ninth century at least.

  Warren climbed off his snowmobile and joined her. “Do you think we can leave the machines here?”

  “Yes. I think they’re hidden within the city’s magic now.”

  He nodded and unstrapped a big duffel from the back of the snowmobile. She unhooked the Chairman from his fluffy space pod, and he leapt down into the snow, immediately sinking in a puff of white. He yowled indignantly, and she leaned down to pull him out. “We’ve learned our lesson now, haven’t we?”

  He hissed at her. She laughed, but made a vow to remember to watch out for him around the deeper snow in the future.

  Warren tromped through the snow over to her machine, unhooked her duffel and swung it over his shoulder. “Are there any magics we should be concerned about?”

  She looked up at the looming gray stone and twinkling glass. Technically, the buildings were too old to have such huge plate-glass windows. Magic had been used to create them, and magic had kept them from breaking over the last millennium. “I assume so. Magic, or something else entirely, is holding this place together. It’s too old to be in such good condition. Whether or not there are protective spells in place, I don’t know.”

  “We’ll tread cautiously, then.”

  They set off for the nearest street that spilled out onto the glacier. The gray cobblestone was completely free of snow.

  “It’s like they left yesterday,” Esha said as she poked the stone with the toe of her clunky boot. She wasn’t getting any negative vibes, but then, because she was a soulceress, she probably wouldn’t. She glanced at Warren and he looked fine, so she stepped onto the street, where gray stone walls rose high on either side of her. “All clear.”

  She put the Chairman on the cobblestones and the three of them walked down the narrow street. None of the buildings had doors, and it was so eerily quiet and perfect that it made her nervous.

  “Wait, where the hell are we?” Warren asked.

  “What? We’ve only been on this street for a minute.”

  Warren turned in a circle, brow scrunched. Gods, he was handsome, with his gleaming hair and green eyes. Even when he was confused. “Aye. I should be able to see back onto the glacier at the end of the street. I canna. I doona even know which way we’ve come from. It all looks the same.”

  “Oh. Wow. There must be a disorientation spell. Only soulceresses can navigate through the city.” They’d reached a crossroads of five streets, two of which led upward via stone stairs. It was like a labyrinth of gray stone and glittering glass. “We’ll have to stay together.”

  “Aye, no kidding. Any sense of where the temple might be?”

  She looked around. “No. I’m pulled in four directions—the compass points—where important buildings might be. Or something that is important to me. I don’t know which.”

  “All right. We should find a base camp first. Night is going to fall soon. Damn northern sunset.”

  She nodded and turned left, down the widest and most inviting road. Everything was so monochromatic: gray stone upon gray stone, broken only by the sheen of glass windows. There were doors on this street, though, and she picked one that she guessed was a residence.

  “Here goes nothing,” she said, and pushed the door open.

  Light filtered in to reveal the front room of a shop. Fabric in hundreds of hues spilled from the shelves and the forms of faceless mannequins. She swallowed hard. Fabric shouldn’t last a thousand years in these conditions without disintegrating. There was some kind of magic at work here, and it was strong.

  “Wrong place,” she said, and backed out.

  They walked down the street until they reached another crossroads, this one with six streets. She chose right this time, and when she pushed open another door, it led to the foyer of a home. Again, a bright profusion of color gleamed from every surface. Carpet, paint, draperies, all in shades of green and yellow and blue.

  “Looks good,” Warren said over her shoulder.

  The Chairman hurtled across the threshold and out of the cold like he’d been ejected from a slingshot. He was as sensitive to threats as she was, and if he deemed it safe, she assumed she could too. After all, the soulceresses had never fought to protect this place. They’d lived here peacefully and in secret, then abandoned it as soon as the Vikings had landed on their shores in their longboats. So there was nothing to be afraid of, right?

  “Strange place,” Warren said.

  “Yes.” Strange to think that hundreds of soulceresses and soulcerers had lived here. Esha had never met even one, yet there had been a time when there were enough of them to create this great city.

  They stripped off their snowsuits and snow boots and explored the house in silence. The bottom floor, with its opulent living areas and ancient kitchen, the upper floor with four bedrooms and no internal plumbing, and finally, the basement. Torches mounted to the wall along the stairs were ready to be lit. With a flick of her hand, they burst into light.

  “Holy shit,” Esha breathed when they reached the bottom of the stairs. They’d descended into a stone grotto. The torches illuminated three steaming pools of clear blue water, natural hot springs that heated the air with humid warmth.

  “This is how the rest of the house is heated,” Warren said. “But how the hell is it here, in the middle of a damned glacier?”

  “Magic, like the rest of this place. Iceland has loads of hot springs. It looks like the soulceresses diverted some and built their houses over them.” She walked over and dipped a hand in. “It’s nice. Not too hot. I doubt it does much to melt the ice, and magic can help with what little harm it might cause.”

  The Chairman was batting at the water, no doubt looking for the phosphorescence that he’d found back at the howf.

  “My ability to navigate works in the house,” Warren said. “I’ve still got no idea how to get out of the city, but I doona have a problem here.”

  “Good. Maybe because—” She jerked and stared at a shadow that had appeared on the stairs. A soul shadow. It was very roughly human shaped, but made of nothing but black smoke.

  “What the fuck?” Warren whipped his head to the left, where another soul shadow had crept out from behind a ledge of rock.

  “You see them too?” Esha asked. The shadow on the stairs began to solidify. Her eyes widened. That wasn’t normal. “Who are you?”

  Esha stepped forward. It drifted back up the stairs, and the shadow from the corner zipped out to follow it.

  “Wait!” She raced up the stairs after them, Warren and the Chairman at her heels. When she reached the now dim foyer, she waved a hand to light the wall lamps and caught sight of three more soul shadows of varying opacity. They drifted tow
ard the door and then straight through it and out to the street.

  She ran to the door and swung it open. Full dark had fallen and the street was nearly pitch black. The soul shadows had blended into the night, but she could still sense them, hovering just outside the door, watching.

  A blast of cold hit her, more than just the night air and the snow. Evil—and it was coming from some of the shadows.

  “The dark hides them. Can you see them?” Warren asked from behind her. He loomed over her shoulder, peering out into the night.

  “No. But I feel them.”

  “Me too.”

  That was bad. He wasn’t a soulcerer, so he shouldn’t feel them. With her skin crawling, she raised a hand and cast protective magic around the house. “They can’t come in now. I think they live in the city, and they came out to investigate us.”

  “Do you know what they are?”

  “Maybe. They’re not like the shadows of evil deeds that I normally see. They’re more solid. Some more so than others. I think they’re actually souls.” She shut the door and backed into the dim foyer.

  “Whose?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think we should be out in the dark since they’re so much harder to see. They’re not all friendly, and I’ve no idea what they’re capable of.”

  “Shite.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Come on, I’ll make dinner.” Warren turned and started toward the back of the house.

  She had to suppress a smile at the familiarity of him cooking for her without asking. Was this what it was like to be in a relationship? Just doing the little day-to-day tasks and looking out for one another?

  Except that they were in a haunted city.

  Even so, she could get used to it. Don’t. Self-preservation edged its way in on her sugary feelings. Hope beat back at it. Sanity won out.

  She followed him to the weird old kitchen and said, “Actually, I’m beat. I think I’ll just have a granola bar in my room. Don’t worry about me.” She could conjure something decent for the Chairman. It wouldn’t take too much power.